As told in my last post, I moved about 6 years ago, 5 hours and 350+ miles away, bladda bladda bladda, how I had to attend a new school, yadda yadda yad. However, what I did not get in to was the time I got the flu, and...well.
After attending my new school for about two weeks, I had already gained a 'best friend' (yet later on she kicked my cat and called him stupid so I locked her outside when it was about 40 degrees until my mom got home at like 9 at night I was such an ass) but was growing tired of her because all she ever did was bitch and moan about not having a boyfriend and I was like what the fuck we're in fifth grade but then I thought boyfriend = relationship, long relationship = sex and that just reminded me of those nights in the hotel and I just stopped worrying about it there altogether.
After the cat incident, I soon made a new best friend, and we...still are best friends. But her being my friend led to me having even more friends, namely, Tyler, Austin, and that one kid Brock that no one really liked but he hung around anyway because it seemed as if he was lacking in mental capacity. Or something. No one knew why but he just kept following us around all the god damned TIME and it was fucking annoying, you guys.
Anyway, because of these newfangled 'friend' things - things of which I really hadn't had much of before the move at all - I was opened up and had a bigger chance of catching bugs (and not the little crawly kind that some kids like to eat for some reason).
This is where the flu comes in. And not just the flu, but the stomach flu.
Best Friend hadn't come to school for awhile and I was genuinely worried. Worried about her, if she had contracted some sort of deadly flesh-eating virus, if she broke her bones, or if she had died. But, I was also worried that had she caught something less-deadly and more annoying and contagious, that I would get it. Because you know, we're bros.
But, Best Friend came back a couple of days later, having been out maybe four total, and I forgot about it. Until it happened.
I remember coming home one day, maybe a month or five weeks or something after moving there, and was all chilling out on the couch and shit, with my mom on the other part of the sectional, when I was like 'oh god I don't feel good' but ignored the feeling because I'm retarded.
I then bent over, and promptly threw up.
Thus causing my mother to do a leap off of the couch, trying to catch my vomit with a blanket.
Such a lovely mental image.
However, she caught it and we avoided having to scrub the carpets.
I still felt like utter shit though, so I got to go sit in the bathroom. I thought, hey, y'know, maybe this will all be over soon. Oh god, oh sweet JESUS I was UTTERLY and HORRIBLY WRONG. It turns out that I wasn't blessed with having the stomach flu for only 24-48 hours - oh no, that would have been too easy - but I instead got the gift of having it for nearly 8 days. Over a week, y'all. A week of retching and being sore from doing so, and many times passing out because of fever.
I asked my mom if I was going to die, and she simply said, "I don't know." At that point, I just slouched over the toilet and tossed some more of my cookies.
THANKS, MOM.
THANKS FOR BOOSTING A YOUNG CHILD'S SPIRITS WHEN SHE FEELS LIKE SHE'S GOING TO DIE.
Eventually, the bug spread to my mom, because she had to take care of me, and also to my brother. I couldn't go to my grandparents, because y'know they're old and so have weaker immune systems and we didn't need to get them sick, either. Plus they were like, 350 miles away because they still lived in Virginia. So I was stuck at home for almost two weeks because of that shit. It sucked.
But I kept teasing my brother, saying that there was a monster that lived in the toilet and that it was going to eat him if he turned his back.
He pretended to not believe me, but I knew he really did.
I could hear his terrified sobs through the bathroom door when I walked by.
But then I went back to school.
No comments:
Post a Comment